


your crooked sleep beside me

by nicalyse



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicalyse/pseuds/nicalyse
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is unexpected.In which Louis comes on the Breakfast Show and Nick starts to fall for him.





	your crooked sleep beside me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PwoperNinjaElf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PwoperNinjaElf/gifts).



> Written for PwoperNinjaElf for this year's Tomlinshaw Exchange. This was such fun to write! I do hope that you enjoy it.
> 
> Thanks to Tori for the cheerleading. All mistakes are my own. There's a bit of handwaving of real world timelines here. I suggest going with it. It's more fun that way.

Louis Tomlinson is unexpected.

Or. Well. The way that Nick feels when Louis Tomlinson is there, on the show, chatting and smiling and being fit and charming and the whole lot - that's unexpected.

He comes into the studio looking a bit bleary and blurry around the edges, softer than Nick remembers him being when he'd been there before with the rest of the One Direction lads. The Louis that Nick remembers - and it's been a while, but surely not that long - is loud and quick and sharp, always listening, always half a step ahead of everyone else. Nick always felt that he needed to be on top of his shit when Louis was in the studio, half-afraid of what might happen if he let himself be caught unawares. It was a bit nerve-wracking, if he's honest.

"Thanks for having me on," Louis says after they've gone to break and he's taken the headset off.

"Course," Nick replies. He comes round to shake Louis' hand, finding himself tugged into one of those laddy half-hugs. Louis is slighter than Nick remembers, and smells faintly of cigarette smoke and cologne. "We'll have you back when you drop the album."

Louis smiles. "All right. It's a plan."

And then he's gone.

*

_thanks for not bringing up my mum today_

Nick hasn't deleted a number from his phone since he broke up with his last boyfriend in about 2014, so he knows that it's Louis texting him. Harry put the number in ages ago, "Just in case. You never know." Nick hasn't ever used it, but he's somehow not surprised when the text comes through.

_Figured you'd had enough of that_

_the worst isn't it_

_it is_

"Who are you texting?" Gillian asks, poking at his side. They're having a dinner in at his, curry spread out on the coffee table before them, Netflix all queued up.

"Louis Tomlinson."

Gillian raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you used to complain about what a brat he was?"

"I did," Nick confirms with a nod, "because he was. But that was years ago."

"Wasn't he an arse about you and Harry being friends?" Gillian asks, speaking a bit slowly, like she's remembering. "You said he would make all these snide comments about your age and what."

"That was ages ago." It was. Louis was a dick. Probably, Nick always thought, because he was jealous that Nick and Harry were friends and, compared to what was said about Harry and Louis, their friendship was relatively easy. There was the thing with the tweet, which Louis apologized for at some event later that same year, and that was it. After he and Harry stopped living together, Louis stopped having much to do with Nick unless he came on Breakfast. It wasn't a thing. "Besides, we're all allowed to be dicks when we're nineteen, yeah?"

Gillian looks dubious. "Why's he texting you?"

"He was on radio with me this morning." His phone buzzes again in his lap. He's a bit disappointed to see that it's just a Snapchat notification. "Can't fit popstars text me without you being suspicious?"

"Oh god," Gillian mutters, rolling her eyes. Curled up on the floor at her feet, Pig huffs as though she agrees.

*

So, maybe Nick spends a bit of time poking around on the gossip sites in the next few days, looking at photos of Louis out and about, watching videos of performances of the new song with Bebe, reading old articles about when his mum died.

And maybe when Louis was younger he was a bit twinky, not quite Nick's type even if he was very pretty, but now, with the scruff and the vague air of being almost one day too many unwashed. Well. Maybe sometimes that is Nick's type, and it doesn't matter that Louis has always dated girls and has a baby in the States. It's perfectly normal to fancy a celebrity, even if he's straight. It's only a little bit weird that this is a celebrity that he's seen in his boxer shorts and naught else, making tea in his own kitchen. That was only once.

It's only a bit weird, he rationalizes, tapping through to watch the "Back to You" performance on Corden's show.

It's a good song, that's all.

*

"Nicholas Grimshaw"

Nick turns around, cursing as his too-full cocktail sloshes over his hand. "Louis Tomlinson. Fancy seeing you here."

Louis, who has a Heineken in his hand, shrugs. "Here with me sister. She likes a girly drink." He grins up at Nick. "Looks like you do, too."

"Nothing wrong with something a bit fruity," Nick defends, almost automatically. He's too old to be getting shit about what he's drinking.

"Course not," Louis agrees. He comes closer, leaning lazily against the end of the bar, skinny jeans and a vintage-looking t-shirt and hot enough that Nick is either too sober or too drunk. "I think my sister's going to pull and leave me here alone."

"Good on her." Louis' face does a weird thing, like he's proud and disgusted all at once. "You can join us if you like."

"Us?"

"Pixie and Gillian and me.”

Louis opens his mouth to reply, but cuts himself off, pulling his phone from his back pocket and reading something on the screen. "She's gone," he announces, taking a deep pull off his beer. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all." Nick's heart is beating too fast, his palms a bit damp though he only spilled his drink on one hand. It's absurd. "Come on."

"Pix, Gellz, you know Louis," he introduces when he gets back to their table. "Louis, Pixie and Gillian."

Gillian raises a pointed eyebrow at Nick while Pixie hugs Louis, complimenting his jeans. Nick shrugs with a nonchalance he doesn't feel and swallows down about half his drink.

"Let's do shots!"

Three rounds of tequila shots later, the girls have gone to dance and Louis and Nick are still at their table. Nick is pleasantly drunk, hazy enough that he isn't embarassed about his embarassing crush on Louis, warm from the inside out and considering undoing another button on his top - not because he's trying to pull, but because he's feeling himself. A waitress comes by to clear away their empties, earning a brilliant smile from Louis that makes Nick's stomach do a weird clenching thing.

"Bet she'd go home with you," Nick comments as the waitress leaves with a fresh pink flush to her cheeks.

"Not really what I fancy tonight," Louis replies.

"More for a brunette then?"

"More for a bloke, if I'm honest."

Nick almost chokes on his tongue.

Across the table, Louis is grinning like he knows exactly what he's done.

"I...didn't know."

"That's good. Means Harry's kept his mouth shut." He says it lightly, but Nick can tell it's a bit of a sensitive subject. Nick had always wondered - everyone had - but he'd never asked, and Harry hadn't ever said anything.

"He's good at secrets, our Harry."

"Hmm." Louis looks at Nick, considering. Nick feels his own cheeks flush. "If you take me home, I'll suck you off."

"Jesus Christ."

"Am I not your type?" Louis asks, eyes gone a bit sharp.

"Thirty seconds ago I thought you were straight," Nick manages. "Give a man a moment to adjust."

It's a fucking terrible idea. Nick has an obsessive personality, and he's already half-obsessed with this boy. Googling him, honestly, what the fuck?

But he's sitting right here, right in front of Nick, with his pretty blue eyes that look just a little too sad, and while Nick has learned a lot of lessons and doesn't make quite so many self-destructive decisions any more, well. He's only human. And there's a beautiful boy offering to put Nick's dick in his mouth. The only thing is -

"Why me?" Louis narrows his eyes. "There are a dozen other blokes here who'd take you home, hotter than me. Why not one of them?"

"You're the one I fancy," Louis says simply. "You're fit, and I've been flirting with you all night, even if you're too thick to notice."

"Oi."

"Come on, Nick." His eyes practically smolder, what the fuck? Who even thinks these things? "Take me home."

*

They sit with a huge, gaping space between them in the back of the Uber on the way back to Nick's, Louis looking at his phone and Nick doing his best to not lose all of his shit completely. His phone buzzes in his hand.

_we haven't even kissed yet. that's mad_

Nick looks over at Louis incredulously, but Louis doesn't even look up from his screen, the tiniest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Nick's phone buzzes again.

_I've wanted to kiss you for years if I'm honest_

"Years?" Nick asks aloud, not able to stop himself. Louis looks over at him. "Years?" he repeats, softer, wondering.

Louis nods, looking a bit sheepish. "Back then, when I was such a dick...think I just wanted you to notice me."

"Well shit."

Louis chuckled. "Yeah."

*

Pig and Stinky are beside themselves when they get back to Nick's house, eager to smell this new person and Nick all over to see where they've been. Louis drops to his knees on the living room rug to pet both of them, rubbing Stinky's belly when he flops for him and scratching between Pig's ears so she grunts.

"Come on, pups, let's go out," Nick interrupts when he can't stand it any more. He strides to the back door, the dogs streaking out into the garden to do their business when he opens the door.

"They're cute," Louis comments, having followed him into the kitchen.

"They're like my children," Nick answers, shrugging a bit. He knows it's especially stupid to say that to someone who actually has a human child, but it doesn't make it untrue.

"Dogs are the best. And they don't worry you quite as much as a real baby," he adds lightly.

It's ten minutes before the dogs are in and given their treats and settled in for the evening. Louis pours two glasses of water from the pitcher in the fridge, and Nick turns on some music so it isn't so eerily quiet in the living room, and every moment that they spend not touching each other ratchets the tension up another level until Nick things that he can actually feel it humming in the air.

"I can change the music if you--"

Louis cuts him off, wrapping a hand around the back of Nick's neck and tugging him down into a kiss. It's softer than he would have expected from Louis, questioning. "All right?" he breathes, pulling away just a bit.

"Yeah. You?"

"Not the first time I've thought about doing that," he says softly, like it's a secret.

"I googled you after you were on breakfast," Nick admits. "Watched about four different appearances you did."

"Stalker," Louis teases, pushing Nick toward the sofa until he drops down into the seat. Louis drops into his lap, straddled across his thighs with his knees at Nick's hips. He traces his fingers over the exposed skin of Nick's chest, leaning in close. "Still all right?"

Nick pulls him into another kiss instead of answering.

It isn't a life-changing kiss like in a movie, but it is _good_. Louis is as hard to figure out in a kiss as he is everywhere else; soft one minute, deep and hard the next, nipping at Nick's lower lip with his teeth and practically melting into him with a quiet sigh. Nick loses himself in it, forgetting that this is a popstar in his lap, thinking more about how Louis' fingers tugging at the back of his hair are making his dick hard enough that he won't be able to hide it any more.

Because it might not be a life-changing sort of kiss, but that doesn't mean that Nick's ready for it to be over.

Louis, however, has a different idea. Nick has barely thought about it when Louis reaches down between them to press his hand against Nick's dick. He can't help that he grinds up into the pressure, can't help the way that he moans into Louis' mouth. Still, he grabs onto Louis' upper arms when he goes to slide backward out of Nick's lap, shaking his head. "You don't have to."

"It's what I came here for," Louis points out.

"Doesn't mean we can't change our minds."

"Cold feet?" He's touching Nick's chest again, fingers sneaking down to undo another button, every touch sending little frissions all through Nick.

He waits until Louis looks up and meets his eyes. "Just think it's more than this. That's all."

Louis smiles, soft, the warmth coming into his eyes. "Course it is. Doesn't mean I don't still want to blow you."

Nick can't help the laugh that bubbles out. "If you insist then."

Louis doesn't waste any time sliding out of Nick's lap, kneeling on the rug between his feet, making quick work of Nick's zip and tapping his hip to help get his jeans down enough to get his cock out.

"Hello," Louis says quietly to Nick's cock, stroking it slowly. 

"Are you talking to my dick?"

Louis grins up at him wickedly, leaning down to flick his tongue over the head, eyes locked with Nick's. "Just paying it a bit of attention."

"'s a bit weir-- _fuck_ ," he gasps when Louis takes his dick into his mouth and sinks halfway down the length at once. It's unexpected for sure, and hotter than it has any right to be when Louis looks up at him through his eyelashes like he would be smirking if his mouth wasn't full of Nick.

It isn't the best blowie Nick's ever gotten, but for everything that Louis isn't quite an expert at, he makes up with enthusiasm. And really, what else can you ask from a blowie? Hot and wet and given by someone who really wants to be giving it.

So considering that it isn't the best blowie he's ever gotten, he comes quickly enough that he should probably be embarrassed. Louis, however, climbs back up into Nick's lap and kisses him with apparent satisfaction, pushing the taste of Nick into his mouth with a moan. "Jesus," Nick whispers, leaning his forehead against Louis' and trying to catch his breath.

"All right?"

"Fishing for compliments, pet?" Nick pushes his hands up under Louis' t-shirt - why the fuck is he still wearing a shirt? he pulls it up over his head - and spans his hands across the bare skin of his back, hot and a bit damp with sweat. 

"Course." He rocks his hips forward against Nick's, making him hiss in a breath. "Pull me off."

"Yeah?" Nick starts fumbling with the button on Louis' jeans. "You don't want me to return the favor?"

"Maybe next time," he pants, groaning out loud when Nick finally gets his hand inside his pants. "Fuck, Like it rough."

"All right, bossy," Nick murmurs, tightening his grip and twisting his fist around Louis' length, holding him close with the other hand pressed flat at the center of his back. He's trembling, hips rocking along with Nick's movements, desperate for it.

Nick loves it.

Louis' so on edge that it doesn't take long for him to spill, getting come on his own jeans and Nick's - their own fault, why the fuck aren't they naked? - and shaking through it, shaking even after he's finished. He tips forward so his head is leaned on Nick's shoulder, breath hot and fast on Nick's skin. "All right?"

"Fuck me," Louis curses softly.

Nick can't help himself. "Not sure you could handle that now, pet." Louis rolls his head to the side to meet Nick's eyes in a halfhearted glare.

"I'm going to wait until you're dead asleep and then steal all the covers."

Nick's heart gives an extra little thump thinking about Louis in his bed. "Do your worst."

*

_stop playing shit songs_

_are you listening for your own song?_

_not anything wrong with that_

"Oi. What are you grinning at?" Fiona asks, bringing Nick back to reality. He's at work, there's a song playing, and he's 45 seconds from his next link.

"Just Twitter."

"Liar. That's your flirting face."

"I haven't got a flirting face."

"You do," Fiona insists. "It's that one. You get all grinny and check your phone every fifteen seconds."

Nick can't help glancing down at his phone when it makes its little _buzz buzz_ on the counter. "You're off your game, Fi."

He makes it all the way through the link and starts the new Little Mix before he picks up his phone to read the string of messages Louis has sent.

_stroking my ego is part of this. you should know that up front._

_I won't make the obvious joke_

_stroke_

Nick shouldn't like it as much as he does.

But he really does.

*

It's a bit unexpected how easy it is to fall into a rhythm with Louis. They text and send snaps, and when Louis has a free evening in London, he comes to Nick's. They order food and watch telly and fall into bed, and Louis doesn't even complain about Nick's old man bedtime. In fact, it's almost like he likes it.

"Early to bed when you've got a little one," he answers when Nick brings it up one night. They're in his bathroom, Louis brushing his teeth while Nick finishes his nightly skincare regimine. (Louis has, of course, mercilessly made fun of him, then admitted that when he's home he uses his own cleanser and moisturizer duo.)

Louis talks about Freddie a lot. Just little things, but they're all over the place, the natural reaction of a dad who loves his son. And they're all tinged with a little bit of sadness that makes Nick want to wrap Louis up in a hug. "You miss him," he says instead.

Louis spits toothpaste. "Course I do. But it is what it is." He rolls his eyes when Nick can't help glancing down at his tattoo, exposed by the stretched out neckline of his t-shirt. "I'll be back in LA in two days, and we do Facetime whenever I'm gone. It's not perfect, but it's fine."

Nick finishes screwing the lid on his eye cream, then leans down to kiss the corner of Louis' mouth. "I like you," he says simply, mint tingling on his lips.

Louis shakes his head and says, "Silly," but Nick can see that he's smiling when he walks out of the bathroom.

*

_how do you feel about dick pics?_

_atm a bit shocked that you asked before just sending one_

_please nicholas i have manners. no one likes an unexpected willy_

_Fair enough. Suppose I might like it if I was expecting it._

_get ready_

*

"You take holidays, right?"

Nick peers down at Louis, who is currently stretched out beneath him, naked and hard and just two seconds ago whining for Nick to get on with it. Intrigued, Nick moves to the side a bit, resting his elbow on the mattress and his chin on his hand. "You know I do." He went to Greece with a whole pack of friends just a little while back. He sent about a thousand pictures to Louis while he was there, and they'd gotten off on the phone when Pixie was asleep just across the room from Nick.

"D'you think you could take one soon? Ish?"

Nick quirks an eyebrow. "Maybe. Something you're thinking about?" They've been doing this   
for a few months - god, six or seven months, actually, it's easy to lose track of time with schedules like theirs - but a holiday isn't something that either of them have ever brought up.

"How you feel about LA?"

Nick smiles. "Good weather. Posh hotels. Terrible traffic."

Louis shifts. "Yes, all that."

"What else?" He's pushing, a bit, but if Louis brought this up now, when they're like this, well - he clearly wants to talk about it.

"You know what."

"Do I?"

Louis glares. "Nick."

"Do you think I could blow you and then we can have this conversation?"

Louis sighs a heavy, put-upon sigh. "I suppose. But only if you insist."

They're a little too distracted to get back to it that night.

The next morning is a Saturday, so Nick allows himself a bit of a lie in, not getting out of bed until half-seven - the time of morning that his body starts insisting that it is Too Late and He Must Get Up. (His body is an obnoxious dick, if he's honest.) Louis is already up, slumped at the kitchen table, half-glowering into his tea and doing nothing else.

"Morning," Nick greets, going through the motions of starting coffee. He starts pondering breakfast, and whether they should do something simple - he's got eggs and bread for toast - or if he should duck out to the bakery for some sort of pastry.

"Can you come to LA with me?"

Nick turns away from the counter to face him. Louis is speaking softly, even for first thing in the morning.

"Will you go to LA with me?" he says just a few seconds later, before Nick has even had a chance to process.

"If you want me to." Nick nods. "I'd like to go with you, if that's what you want."

"Yeah." Louis' got his hands wrapped around his mug, the sleeves of his sweatshirt pulled low so only the tips of his fingers are showing. "I want you to meet Freddie." He meets Nick's eyes. "I want Freddie to meet you."

Nick grins. "I can't wait. I love kids."

"He's the best," Louis agrees, smiling his Freddie smile. "And so are you. High time you're in the same place."

*

It's cooler in Los Angeles than Nick has ever felt it before, unseasonable he thinks. His suitcase of lightweight tops and ripped jeans aren't going to be ideal if it doesn't change. He ponders his closet, the jumper he could've brought along that would've been perfect for the weather, but now he's stuck with button-downs and t-shirts and the one jumper that he wore to get on the plane.

Yes, he's thinking about his clothes as the driver navigates through the hideous traffic around LAX. Because thinking about his closet is less stressful than thinking about meeting his probably-boyfriend's son.

They haven't talked about it explicitly, but there have been enough conversations with the _I'm not seeing/sleeping with/thinking about anyone but you_ flavor that they both know they're exclusive. It's been months since that first night that Nick brought Louis home, and even with how busy their lives are, this has been the easiest relationship Nick's ever been in.

It doesn't matter that they don't use the words.

"You know," he says, waiting until Louis looks up from his phone to go on, "you're my favorite Breakfast guest. I like you more than Jake Gyllenhaal."

"That's specific," Louis replies, narrowing his eyes a bit.

"He's an excellent guest. Good chat." He chuckles at the what the fuck look Louis shoots him. "Sorry. Jet lag."

"Hmm."

There's time to shower and take a quick nap once they get to Louis' house, but they're up in time for lunch, sprawled out on the couch with Netflix going in the background when the gate buzzer goes.

"That'll be them," Louis announces, popping up off the couch. 

Breanna is lovely, introducing herself and standing on her toes to kiss Nick's cheek while Louis tosses Freddie about. She leaves quickly enough, showering Freddie with kisses and passing off a stuffed diaper bag and promising Louis that they'll all have dinner the next night.

Once she's gone, Louis hitches Freddie up on his hip. "Good lad?"

"Yes!" Freddie shouts enthusiastically. He turns to face Nick, blue eyes taking everything in. After a long moment, he pats a hand against Louis' cheek.

"This is Nick," Louis introduces. "D'you want to say hello?"

"Hello," Freddie parrots, the slightest bit of Louis' accent bleeding into his voce.

"Hiya, Freddie." Nick is already smitten. He's a sucker for a baby.

"D'you know who Nick is?" Louis asks Freddie. The boy looks at his dad seriously. "Nick's my boyfriend, so we want to make sure we show him how much fun we have, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Freddie squeals, squirming to be let down. Once his feet are on the floor, he goes charging into the toy bin, the crashing sounds of toddler toys following immediately.

"I love him already," Nick tells Louis seriously. 

Louis smiles, that soft smile that Nick loves so much. "I know the feeling."


End file.
